


Anne Walker's Guide to Raising Six Gifted Children

by someonecallhere



Category: Maximum Ride - James Patterson
Genre: Anne is a mostly competent adult, Anne is not the School, F/M, Finally, Fix-It, Flock as Family, Found Family, Not Beta Read, Past trauma dealt with, Short Chapters, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-03
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:28:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 10,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23976004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/someonecallhere/pseuds/someonecallhere
Summary: It starts as an average mission. Find the six erratically flying objects and figure out something to put in the official report. Instead, Anne comes to realize these kids just need a home. Slice of life AU, Anne is not with the School.
Comments: 45
Kudos: 35





	1. When Dealing With A New Mission

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it never sat right with me that Anne turned out to be working with the School. It was something dramatic that Patterson threw in for shock value and then never capitalized on it. (I mean, ultimately I feel like he actually didn’t have a plan or plot, but that’s for later books, which coincidentally I’m not going to touch upon.) This is an AU, but also a writing exercise for me. But looking back at the Max Ride series I’m curious where the functional adults are (Dr. Martinez was interesting, but that surgery in the third book just rubs me the wrong way after all these years.)  
> This is all mostly from Anne’s perspective. It’s me trying a new tone and medium. And it’s also me having very little idea where this is going. But enjoy the ride!  
> (Also, I’m being generous in my description of the FBI. I apologize if you’ve ever worked there, I have no idea how it works beyond what media and some research has told me.)

Three unidentified flying objects over California reported by Agent Harrison. Too high for visual. Too small for satellite confirmation. More info will be needed.

***

Objects increased to six. One almost fell out of the sky over northern Arizona. Second object seems to have caught first object. Happened too fast for confirmation. Flying objects now thought to be five to thirteen feet or smaller. Look at past UFO logs for more info.

***

Potential object confirmation. Six people “dine and dashed” in downtown New York. They left using avian features…namely wings. Wings! (This is gonna take some rewording for the official report.) Traveling to New York to be closer.

***

Previous log correction reported a “dine and dash” inaccurately reported. Video surveillance shows that truly it was just a dash. Previous reports were missing vital information. The oldest of these people couldn’t have been more than sixteen, if not younger. Three boys, three girls. Currently commencing a search for their families. No hopeful prospects.

***

Monitored the air traffic around New York. A lot of unauthorized drones. But no flying children. Despite their age, they seem adept at avoiding notice. Continue searching.

***

Amendment to previous log. The flying children had a part in blowing up an underground mad scientist lab. Initiating a gas explosion protocol for the local news.

Inside, though, I worry for these children, mad scientist lab is an appropriate description. Cages and tools put to use in a way I wish I had never known. There’s a reason I took a state-side position. Also, I’ve now canceled my gym membership after seeing the lab’s approbation of their gym. Schedule personal psych appointment.

These children would need one too—though now it’s apparent why they’re so adamant to stay out of sight. Higher-ups now looking for them. I’ve reached out to HR and CPS.


	2. When Dealing with a Teenager

Teenagers! Two-thirds of the flying children are teenagers. Complete with attitude and bravo. Though, even to the youngest they all had attitude with my agents. I worry what gave them such a chip on their shoulder. The boy they call Nick, fake names are quite the possibility with these…teenagers. Anyways, the boy Nick was released from surgery. Medical jumbo that goes beyond my basic first-aid field certification.

But to recap, at 2317, I received a call on my phone designated for the flying children and other UFO sightings. There was a sighting of over 15 fliers, humanoid in shape, many of the bulkier fliers dropping to the ground and water.

I started my way to the scene, wondering if we’d recover any bodies.

***

At 0546 a call came in from a Maryland hospital. A teenage boy had just been checked in by his sister. No insurance. No parents. And they were, quote “avian-hybrids.” The department refused to give me a helicopter or plane to get there. But the lesser agents make wonderful chauffeurs. And one of my minions got me coffee.

I spent much of the ride trying to wrap my mind around the flying werewolves found at the earlier scene. There must be a very specific reason that doesn’t involve a horror trope for someone to have thought that up.

By the time I made it to the hospital, the boy had been stabilized, but still on IV. Otherwise I don’t think I would’ve had my chance for contact. The entourage of paper-pushers, with badges and guns, that the higher-ups insist I travel with came in handy during this time. The children refused to be separated from each other, but allowed individual questioning. This got us nowhere besides the fact the children were aware they had wings.

Agent Pedersen came to me with the suggestion of contacting the Research and Development team. But I shot that down (and the glare from the youngest child had nothing to do with it). These were children. Children apparently fresh from a fight. One of them had his own hospital room because of the giant hole in his side! They don’t need a department, these children needed someone to tell them hell no! And then tell them why.

The doctors prescribed rest—it might’ve been to all of us. Including the oldest girl who looked ready to punch someone. I don’t think I’ll have to worry about six little Houdinis tonight, but I acquired my own hospital bed as I type up a more formal report.


	3. When Faced with a Life-changing Decision

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fake names for the Flock
> 
> Max = Max  
> Fang = Nick  
> Iggy = Jeff  
> Nudge = Krystal   
> Gazzy = Zephyr  
> Angel = Ariel
> 
> Man, I dunno why, but these are the hardest fake names to remember. So here's a reminder, if anyone else has forgotten.

Okay. They’re here. My boss, and her boss, and then his boss listened to me. The little sassy-butt avian-hybrid children are not filed away somewhere in research or sent to CPS (I don’t think their training included avian-hybrids).

They’re here. I have six kids and it’s been twenty-three years since I babysat my cousin who is now a super senior in college. 

I think I just realized what I did.

***

Every time I think I’ve bought enough food, the children prove me wrong. Note: double, if not triple budget allowing grocery list.

I’ve noticed Jeff and Zephyr are the most likely to complain about the lack of food. Or they’ll ask for more food. Ariel makes me feel like I’ve kicked a puppy when she gets hungry. I often find myself reaching for my keys while she looks at me with her big blue eyes and holds Total in her arms.

Krystal, I, honestly, 85% of the time don’t even notice half of what she says. But I’m realizing that is most definitely going to be a longer assignment then I realized.

***

Amendment to previous log! I just realized Nick and Max almost never ask for food. Note: Double-check what those two are eating. I can’t do this! Forgetting to water the plants is one thing, children? Gah!

Okay. Send food reports in to the department. 

Tomorrow, hmm, let’s order three pizzas. For each child. It might be enough.


	4. When Dealing With a Child’s Burgeoning Personality

I found out why Zephyr is nicknamed Gazzy. Never ever think of putting frozen burritos on the grocery list again. I don’t care how easy they are to make.

***

I really wish I also had wings to escape this smell.

***

So this is what has been confirmed with Zephyr: 

1\. He’s a sweetheart,

2\. This kid has digestive problems. I’m going to start looking into lactose or gluten alternatives, 

3\. He’s easily been the biggest troublemaker of the kids so far,

4\. But his giggling usually gives him away, 

5\. He has horribly, wonderful puppy eyes and knows when to use them, 

6\. He is curious. Oh so, definitely curious, 

7\. I’m working on him understanding “no.” Especially when an adult says no. It’s only been two weeks, a long few weeks. But holy shi–shiz, it’s only been two weeks. I’ve had these children for half a month! It flew by. The kids are alive and here. And it’s working. And no is a word they need in their vocabulary.

8\. Also, this eight year old always smells like chemicals. I’m concerned.

***

Do children have a poker face? Are they suppose to have a poker face? Because Zephyr is no conceivable way under this blue sun does. And he’s so guilty looking I almost want to teach him how to look more innocent. Or I guess it’s the opposite: he needs to look less innocent so he doesn’t look so guilty. But I don’t think that would be great for me or any authority figure.

But I’m ruminating instead of recording. I came across Zephyr by my pool being lectured by a soggy Max as she waved some soggy papers at the boy, backed up by an equally soggy Nick by my pool.

The poor boy was looking despondent.

And something in me just wanted to gather the dripping boy in a hug. But I don’t think that would be beneficial for anyone. So I walked up and sent Max and Nick inside to dry off and told Angel to get Jeff to start dinner—when did I trust the blind kid in my kitchen!? Nudge to my latest knowledge was still working on her shopping list when I asked for advice on what type of clothes they would like.

But it worked, it was just me and a wet, eight year old boy who looked like he was fighting tears. “Hey kid, what’s the matter?”

He was able to control his almost tears a lot faster than some agentsI’ve had to redirect to a different career. 

He looked at me and went to grab a towel, so I asked again. And got his answer, “Nothing.”

Is it illegal to use interrogation techniques on children? How else are you suppose to get answers out of children? So, I’ll just ask questions? “It didn’t look like nothing.”  
His blond hair was sticking up like unmowed grass after he toweled it off and he was pouting. “I got something important wet on my last cannonball.”

“I’m sorry. We can help them reprint their papers?” Was my answer. Start with a solution and see if the person actually wants a physical solution.

I got distracted when he spread his wings out. He shook them and got me wet. But when he saw me watching his wings, he honest to God just grinned. When did he lose that tooth? I blurted out, though, “Can’t you not fly with your wings wet?” 

He gave his wings a flap, “It might not be a fun or smooth ride, but it’d be doable. Luckily wings dry fast.” Also, check my official report for fascinating research on wet wings on birds. I should’ve wrapped the kid in a hoodie!

“That’s just so amazing.” I was just blown away again. They have wings. These children can fly. And people have been trying to cage them. But they can fly. And the childhood desire to fly welled up in me again. 

Zephyr's smile turned a little bit shy. “Yeah.”

“You’re an awesome kid.”

“Thanks.” He said, and his gap-tooth grin was back. 

I reached out to put my hand on his shoulder but drew my hand back when he minutely tensed. Instead I sat down on a pool chair and looked him in the eye. “You can always talk to me.”

And that’s all I said. 

Zephyr was silent. And just silent. He stayed silent, flapping his wings a little in the sun as they dried out, until Jeff called us for dinner.

I stood up with a stretch and started toward the house, as I walked away, though, Zephyr’s voice stopped me. “I know for your paper thingies you call me Zephyr, but my real name is the Gasman.”

I smiled at him and held out my hand, “Let’s go get dinner.”

***

When I went to go talk to Max and Nick, about the afternoon, they...are flying at night. And hopefully that’s it. But I wasn’t able to talk with them.


	5. When Children Get a Dog

They have a talking dog.

Reevaluating life choices. My wine cellar needs stronger stuff than this.


	6. When Dealing with Your Child’s Dog

Right. Hem hem. New day. New light on previous encounters. Amendment to previous log, only have a small amount of alcohol before bed when the children will wake you up wanting breakfast. Thank the heavens for Jeff and his ability to keep everyone fed.

But. Yes, the dog talks. Yes, no one but me is surprised in this household. Maybe I should’ve thought what mutated, experimented kids would be doing with just a dog.

Honestly though. Really. A talking dog.

I wonder how long it’s…he’s been alive. Total seems educated, well for his situation. (He has now asked for a few more animal documentaries on the TV.) Was the experimentation just on his brain? Because there has to be something done to his mandible and teeth to be able to you know…talk. What was the ultimate goal for Total, because he doesn’t remember. Even the older children eventually told me that they realized after their escape that they were suppose to be weapons. But a talking terrier…a talking terrier with attitude. Boy is that dog picky. Why would I bake breadcrumbs into mac and cheese? Who has been feeding the dog mac and cheese for that reason? Crap, I should probably stop buying dog food. 

Anyways, language lexicon seems to indicate a well-formed adult mind, figure what the hell to write to the research department about this. As well, ask for advice from the security department. This isn’t just a few kids, but a dog…adult who claims to not remember most of its life.


	7. When Preparing Children with a Decision

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just an FYI, this is going to be different than the elementary/middle school that Patterson put into his book.

Recorded transcription with all participant's foreknowledge and personal input for flair before I retype it all for my formal report. 

***

“Okay.” I said clearing my throat. It's a little unnerving to have six pair of eyes completely focused on you when you know exactly how gifted each child is. Oh, right seven. Total just stuck his nose over the chair before Ariel picked him up.

“So, if you wish to stay here with me, there are going to be some changes. Nothing major. You all are doing wonderful on chores, not blowing things up, and flying within my property.” Personal side note, Krystal looked away and Gazzy had his I'm-innocent-and-thus-totally-guilty face on for that last sentence.) “But I'm not a teacher. Heck, you've seen me struggle to be an adult with y'all. So I'd like you to start and continue your education.”

There was silence. And then the kid's faces started flashing through so many different emotions. Excitement for Krystal. Gazzy rubbed his hands together. Nick’s face went blank and Max's eyes narrowed. 

I continued quickly. “You all have blown my mind with how much you outpace me in the sciences and applied maths,” Most of them smiled at that. I guess there’s one thing to growing up an Avian-American. “But the other subjects you probably haven't had too much exposure to. So, I've had a couple different agents of mine look into the schools of this area.”

I pulled out some papers. Luckily my hand didn’t shake, but this was nerve-wracking! These children needed this, but I didn’t want to ruin anything with them. “I want to let you know, you have options and control here.”

Krystal smiled and Gazzy’s grin continued to grow. I put the stack of papers on the table. “Everyone of these schools have had their teachers and credentials checked out. But if you feel like this won’t work out for you then we will look into home tutoring. I would suggest looking into a school building because there are things that a tutor won't be able to teach you.”

There was a tiny scream. “Oh my goodness! This is so exciting! An actual school! I'll be able to—”

“Nudge.” Max cut the girl off and then nodded at me.

“Right.” I said pulling apart some of the packets and pushing them across the table. Max and Nick grabbed the papers and started flipping through them. “Unless you can make a good argument for a public school, it'll be a private school. They are the most prepared for the safety measures we'll implement as well as your unique learning needs.”

“Safety measures?” Max said, pausing in her flipping through the pages. Nick touched her elbow and they switched piles.

“Yes, safety measures. If you'd remember I met y'all in a hospital after you had been attacked.” Anne said looking at Nick. The kid tried to discreetly grimace. “That makes a horrible learning environment. Any assigned agents I've worked with before and are currently working on this assignment. Krystal depending on where you test will depend if you'll in the elementary school or in junior high. But more than likely it'll be a car for Ariel and Gazzy. A car for Krystal. A car for the older three. Max, Nick, it was brought up that if you can get decent grades you could even start driver's ed.”

“What!?” Jeff’s lip jutted out in a pout. I ignored the blind kid and his ridiculous argument right now.

“Also, if you choose one of these schools and decide you need to fly, there will be guidelines there. But please don't terrify these poor, overworked teachers.”  
I laid my hands on the table and waited a moment in silence. The kids watched Max and Nick turn through the pages, so I cleared my throat, “Thoughts?”

Nick scooted closer to Max as they merged some of their piles together, but he looked up at me, “It's a lot to think about.”

Max's eyebrows were still creeping together.

With a smile, I nodded. “It is. How about I make dinner and you can look it all over and tell me tomorrow?”

Max started to nod, still skimming through the pages. Jeff’s chair screeched as he pushed it back. “Thanks Anne, but I can get started on dinner. My talent is in the kitchen, not paper stuff. Poor saps.” 

Nick kicked out at Jeff as he went into the kitchen, but it only made Jeff laugh.

Gazzy popped up from the table, “I want mac and cheese with that good mystery meat in it!” He said, racing into the kitchen following the older boy.

“Ew mystery meat! No way! Iggy let me pick!” Krystal said, hurrying away.

The older two barely noticed the lack of other's presence as they put their heads together to discuss. 

I smiled at Ariel, “Let's leave those two here until dinner so that I know they ate.” And I got up with a stretch, already freaking out as I mentally went through the meeting.  
Ariel looked at me and with a simple, “Okay,” she let Total down, grabbed her bear and together they headed out. Total's nails clicked on the wood flooring, and quickly enough I heard the TV turn on.

With a smile, I left the room and out of sight dropped my forehead to the wall. Arg! Gah! I just totally treated that like a briefing for my minions on an assignment! They aren't adults—overly serious kids, yes! But not adults! I need something to drink!


	8. When You Actually Have to Discipline Your Child (for the first time)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well. Yeah. Life definitely decided to intervene with my writing schedule. Family trips, a friend passing away, general COVID stress, and work are the only excuses I can lay before you. But I hope you enjoyed! Kudos and comments are welcome!

I have so many problems right now. And possible financial fraud from the children is the least of them.

My credit card is missing and I’m down to four suspects! Zeph—Gazzy didn’t have his innocent, but actually I-did-it face and Jeff was sad that I couldn’t go buy food for dinner. 

***

Okay. Down to two suspects!

Max was, well, grumpy when I asked if she had seen my credit card. Thrown for the loop of her moodiness, I almost didn’t hear Nick say that they had their own credit card. From an unknown person. With an unknown amount of money on it. 

I strongly had the urge to shake the two of them down for that card. It just sounds so suspicious and sketchy. But patience, give the kids their space. They’ve had to be responsible for so much. Smile and ask someone to research how to teach children financial responsibility and not to pick up random credit cards—cuz I have no time in my life.

***

Krystal was playing with a fancy camera when I came across her sitting on a tree branch until I decided I needed to call her down. She was silent when she saw me until she opened up to gush about the camera. That was the first suspicion.

The second was the fancy camera. I knew I never had that camera anywhere in my house. Even with work when I have to take evidence pictures I just hope for a basic camera without a lot of features. Or I direct someone else to do it. And I never bring those cameras home. They always stay at the office. 

“Krystal, honey, could you come down to show me your camera?”

The girl paused, before saying, “Of course. I totally could. That’d be so simple. You don’t even flinch anymore when we jump for trees. I mean this isn’t even a jump. It’s kinda more a hop. Super easy. Well at least for me. I actually wonder how far I could jump. It’s easy if I have my wings out for balance and they just kinda, y’know, catch the air. And—”  
“Krystal, come down.” Interrupting the talkative girl is the best way, okay the only way to get anything in. Also in instances like this, with a command, I need to use my I’m-the-superior-you-listen-to-me voice. I practiced it when I newly promoted to Special Agent.

The girl jumped down, proving to my mini heart attack that she was right, it was super easy for her.

“I’m missing my credit card. Have you seen it?”

“Nope.” Krystal said lowering the camera against her chest.

“Krystal.”

She was silent, so I leveled her my you-need-to-tell-me look.

“So, the other girls at school kept saying that their parents buy them anything they ask for. And my teacher showed me his pictures. And I realized just how pretty his were. And that I could do that. But I could do it better. Cuz you see his sight is just limited. He can’t change elevation to get the best picture. But I totally can. But I didn’t have a camera. So I asked Max and she said no. So obviously asking for anything I want didn’t work. Even though we’re living in a home and going to school, so the fact that I’m a normal girl and asking for anything should’ve worked. So I asked the other girls and they said their mom would give them a card. But F-Nick keeps our card. Or sometimes Max. But he heard Max say no, so of course he would’ve said no.” Krystal might have paused for breath. But Anne wasn’t sure if the girl knew she needed to breathe. Either way, she took her chance.

“Krystal, did you take my credit card?”

I saw the lie form on her lips, but then she looked me in the eye. “Yes.”

She drew in another breath for another speech, but I interrupted her, “Why?”

“Cuz my teacher made me super interested in what photography can do. And—”

“What did you buy?”

“This camera.” Krystal said, holding out the fancy-dancy camera I now apparently owned. I swallowed in shock. “And a memory card. Oh and a charger! And I have the case in my room.”

I was just silent.

I think I managed to say something along the lines of, “Go inside for dinner.” And, “We need to talk later.”

Dinner came and went, everyone kept glancing at Krystal who was quiet and watching me the whole time. After I set my fork down, I asked someone to help with dishes and then asked Max to speak with me. She seems like a responsible option.

Max was apprehensive to talk with me, but still leaned against the door of my office. And I laid it out.

“Krystal used my credit card to buy herself a camera.”

Max stilled. She looked cornered and ready to bolt for a moment. But I spoke before she could, “I’m mostly just frustrated. Slightly at myself, I should have asked y’all what hobbies I can help supply—in reasonable terms.” I added because of those bird-kid ears who might be listening in. “But this was wrong, and my personal money, instead of the amount set aside for taking care for you.”

“We’ll pay you back.” Max said, crossing her arms. And teaching these children financial responsibility jumped closer to the top of my list.

“I’m not worried about that. But Krystal needs to understand this was not okay and be disciplined.”

Max’s arms came up and she crossed them over her body and her face went blank.

I took a breath and hurried on. “I have no experience in this and you seem to try to keep these kids in line. What would your suggestion be?”

It was quiet for a long moment. I looked up from my hands to see Max staring at me, her jaw slack, and her arms loose at her sides. She could be the moodiest of the kids, but she was thinking.

“Oh, um, mostly it’s more like leaving them behind for a flight or something.” Max finally answered.

I steepled my fingers, “Okay. Taking the term grounded actually literally. If I ground her for a week or two, will you and the others force it? If she decides to fly there isn’t much I can do about it.”

Max nodded, watching me with confusion in her eyes. But she seemed accepting.

I took a deep breath, good. It was all good. I could do this. I could discipline. I wouldn’t give in to puppy-dog eyes, or… My eyes landed on an old picture of my family. And an idea came into my head, “Also, I’ll pull a leaf from my father’s book. Instead of flying, she’ll spend that time helping the stablehands with my horses.”

“She’ll secretly love that.” 

I gave a small laugh, “Oh she will. Until she has to shovel their poop.”

Max gave a smile and I thanked her as I went to tell Krystal her punishment. She took it with suppressed excitement. Horses really are a lot of work, though.

As I finished for the night, I realized it could have never been Ariel. Good thing I never got around to asking her. She’s just six!

***

It took me a few days for things to slow down at work and I pulled on my boots and hiked out to the barn. 

Krystal was lifting hay from the truck to stack, easily picking up hay bales almost as big as her. The other workers would sometimes catch themselves staring at the wonder and I suppressed a smile. Their bewilderment also could be the stream of chatter she kept up while working.

I caught her attention with her name, and immediately she turned her chatter to me. “Anne, Anne! Did you know that horses eat a lot? Like I’m pretty sure that’s all I’ve been doing. Oh, but then there’s cleaning. Do you know how much a horse poops? It’s crazy! And then—”

“Krystal, how about you take a small break?”

“Sure,” Was her answer, tossing the hay bale towards the others. 

“So, do you know why you’re here?” I started, because how do you even start a conversation like this? And I didn’t want to get distracted.

Krystal pulled off her gloves and bit her lip looking towards the horses, “Because I stole your money.”

“Essentially, yes.” I started. “And it caused me a lot of worry when I realized my card was missing. Krystal if you need something I need you to talk to me.”  
I waited.

Eventually, the girl looked over at me, “Okay.”

“That camera was expensive.”

She worried her lip between her teeth, “It is.”

I blinked, oh yeah. I let her keep the camera. At night, she shows the other kids the pictures she took during the day. Luckily I haven’t seen any impossible (for her grounding) aerials.

“But you do have a talent for photography.” I gave her a smile. “Well, according to my unprofessional eye.”

She beamed at me, “I do? I mean, it’s totally just angles and lighting! And then I just found out the term for candid, and I’m thinking how hard do I have to try to get a candid picture of Fang! Cuz that would be—”

“Krystal, I want you to be able to follow your interests. Reasonable interest. Next time you have something you want, could you come talk to me?” I waited for her nod. “We could easily set something like this up. You work for a little bit here or some other chore and I pay you for it?”

“You mean it! I could totally have my own money? Max and F-Nick wouldn’t tell me I couldn’t? Cuz I need to buy some new clothes! And oh, I just heard about filters for camera lenses! And—”

“Yes, we’ll definitely work something out after your punishment.”

Krystal deflated next to me and her bottom lip jutted out in a pout. Time to show the almost teenager that I am interested in her interests.

“But you’ll have to show the magazine or something for your new clothes. I definitely have to see your fashion sense! I’ve been at such a loss on what to buy you kids! But you all need a wardrobe to be able to pick—”

Krystal cut me off with a hug around my middle. “Thank you!”

She turned to put on her gloves again. I wondered if she remembered I wouldn’t pay her for this punishment. She paused, though, and turned halfway around. “Anne, though, you can call me Nudge.”

Krys—Nudge gave me the biggest smile and started to balance a hay bale on top of the one she already had picked up. I smiled and sat down on a nearby chair with a huff. I did it. First time disciplining a kid and I did it. Muffy, the horse, reached her head over her door and whuffed warm air over my neck.


	9. When Dealing with Others Who Try to Tell You How to Parent

I received a notice from a company in southern California named Itex. They seem to be a science-based research company. But the amount of information they disclosed was alarming. Especially since it was ~~about my bird kids.~~ about the bird kids I'm watching. It was outdated information from years ago. But they offered more information if they could receive information in return.

I wrote a scathing missive that is succinctly summed up as hell no.


	10. When Your Superiors Find Out That You Forgot Regulations

I got the reprimand about my latest report last week. Hell no is not an appropriate response to a new party entering the scene (or emerging in to the scene—their outdated information shows they've been around at least 10+ years if the oldest kids truly are 14). 

Next time I need to forward the request to the communications department. Apparently they would've nicely worded a negative response. (I still feel my way is appropriate.)

To sum it all up, I need to get some information from the kids about this California company. Let's see how this goes.


	11. When Dealing with Brooding Teenagers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fake names for the Flock  
> Max = Max  
> Fang = Nick  
> Iggy = Jeff  
> Nudge = Krystal*  
> Gazzy = Zephyr*  
> Angel = Ariel  
> *Told Anne to call them by their real names

I forgot. Kids with a found family. Kids who seem to have a good reason for a healthy fear of hospitals and research centers. And definitely questions, even if it wasn't going to be an interrogation. I mean they have wings, Anne. Definitely a personal reminder that I don’t know why I thought these kids would be normal.

And well. Yeah. I’ve failed the simplest item I have been given by my boss.

Getting information out of a six-year-old.

Though, I guess I have yet to sit Ariel down and talk with the girl. Every time I go looking for her I can’t find her. It was slightly creepy.

So I moved on, Gazzy sat there quietly. But his puppy eyes. Oh my goodness those big, blue eyes just struck me straight to my core. And the “Anne, can you help with my homework?” He got me. Gazzy got me. He knows I like talking about stuff I know. And wow, it was dinnertime before I realized I didn’t get any information out of him.

Well then Nudge. She should be a good candidate. Hopefully. I didn’t see the older teenagers being that receptive. But Nudge. Her talking skills are legendary. So I caught her in a moment, and: “Hi Anne! What are you doing here? Have you seen ‘Over the Hedge’ yet? Cuz oh my goodness, people say I’m like the squirrel Hammy. And all my friends at school keep on joking that I can’t have caffeine. And I think that is so unfair! So, so unfair. Like, come on. Soda is just too delicious.”

Uh, Nudge?

“And fries. I have decided that for the rest of my life anytime I have a soda that I need to have fries with it. It just tastes so good. I don’t why. Mykell told me because of the salt and the sugar mix together. But I think that she’s just trying to be a know-it-all. Haley totally agrees with me. Oh! For dinner can we get Frosties and fries? Cuz they could not believe it when I told them I had never had that before. So I—”

I’m not even sure if she noticed me walking away.

I learned my lesson a few weeks ago when trying to talk to Jeff. I approached Jeff today without Gazzy around. I asked if I could help him with dinner. And, well, I got laughed at in my own kitchen. Except I’m not sure if it’s my kitchen anymore. There’s no way I bought that garlic, Lawry’s, or paprika...I think.

Anyways, Jeff laughed at my offer for help. But he set me to chopping the onions. (It was a slight relief to get the knife out of his hands, someday I’ll get used to it.) I had barely gotten through half an onion when Jeff broke the silence before I could. 

“If you want to ask me about the School, I don’t want to talk.”

“The School?”

“It’s in California.” He then turned on my food processor...did I even own a food processor? But the noise from the food processor (I don’t know if I should be worried that it is probably mine or not) effectively killed that conversation. And it was a success? The children call this California-based science research center the School. Have my researchers seen if it has anything to do with the mad scientist lab we found in New York. If so, we are going to need more foster families for the children involved with this Itex.

But that went into my formal report. Here I’m already thinking of my boss’ disappointment. I knew I had to approach Max and Nick. It would be a dead-end. I had nothing to bargain with. And it was obvious that none of the kids wanted to talk about this School. But I still had to work with every resource for this information.

So I approached the two of them after school. Regular school. Ugh, as if the word itself didn’t have enough negative connotation without inhumane experiments being added to it.

But my simple plan of talking to them, being shot down, and creatively finding a way to circumvent their distrust to win my boss’ approval kind of went down the drain. And it’s my fault. 

Nick wasn’t in his room. To my knowledge, there were no kids on the roof. But when I knocked on Max’s door, well, I found Nick.

He answered to my knock on Max’s door.

Oh boy. Adult instincts kicked in. “What are you doing?” It might have come out a little sharp...

But finally, Max opened the door and looked more annoyed instead of embarrassed, “Homework.” 

And then she shut the door.

Oh boy. Right, okay. Fully functional adult. Already did puberty. Rational thinking...okay, kay. Who am I kidding? There is no rational thinking.

“Max.”

Nothing from the other side, maybe the sound of papers.

“I need you to talk with me.”

Nothing, but the creak of the bed and then the floor.

“Max, open the door.”

I heard the window opening, wingbeats, and then the hallway landing was quiet for a long time. Nothing came from the other side of the door.

And I thoroughly failed an assignment for the first time in a very long time.


	12. When Dealing with the Aftermath

I took over the kitchen counter this morning. It’s a dilemma. It might also be kind of bad. I mean, my coffee is stone cold, but I still stared into its murky depths. 

I have no idea how to do this.

Most of the children snuck in and grabbed some toast (okay, the whole loaf) and such for breakfast. And I can only hope that they ended up at school. Their drivers should’ve been ready to pick them up.

I never heard Max or Nick come in, so I can only hope that they came back. 

Well, the rest of the kids are still here. The dog is still here. He came in after a few hours and asked if I wanted to watch TV. When I didn’t answer he curled up at my feet. He’s a good dog. 

Also after failing disciplining I’m being comforted by a talking dog. That’s definitely going into my formal report: not only have I started talking to a dog in times of stress—the dog talks back. Do with that what you will bossman, you’re still paying my paycheck. And therapy.

***

Eventually, I made it into the office. Like up my stairs and into my office. I started some mindless research documents for a few other missions, but eventually, a knock came at my door. 

It was Nick, “You wanted to talk to us?”

He was in his school uniform, so good things there.

“I guess I need to apologize,” was my response.

He shrugged. This kid needs a haircut, he has the whole angsty bang flop thing down. 

Right, arguments and disagreements.

“It just surprised me to have to talk through a door,” I said.

Another shrug. 

Okay, two-hour work distraction from earlier today says that this is normal for teenagers. Clampdown on the rising irritation.

“I have questions about a research facility in California that reached out to the agency, but I would like a little more information on how to deal with them.”

“Easy. Ignore them and when that doesn’t work blow them up.” Nick said, folding his arms.

I smiled. “Unfortunately the agency, the people funding us right now, won’t take that as an answer.”

This time it was a one-shoulder shrug.

But it would not deter me this time. I steepled my fingers and waited in silence for an answer. 

“I guess you’ll have to talk to Max. She sometimes has less destructive ideas depending on her mood.” Nick said, looking over his shoulder.

When he looked back I nodded, “Will she talk to me?”

“Uh,” Nick tilted his head, “Probably not. Ariel’s talking to her, so Max might be willing after getting more insight. But we’ll see.”

“Right.” I let out a deep breath and look down at my research notes on Amish schoolhouses and tragedies. When I look up again my doorway is empty. “Right. Good talk team.”


	13. When Approached by a Teenager Who Doesn’t Know What to Say

Two things happened today.

First, I figured out why some parents seem to love jogging. As much as grocery shopping (all the grocery shopping for these kids!) sometimes feels like exercise, it’s not gonna cut it for my physical.

Secondly, Max came to talk with me today. I gave her some space, but I’m glad she decided to talk after a few days. Much longer and I don’t know what I would’ve done. But any healthy heart benefits that came from jogging, definitely disappeared when she dropped out of the sky next to me. Mini-heart attack in the form of a 14-year-old girl.  
I’ve seen the kids flying, but for the first time, I saw those wings right up close next to me. They’re powerful and she made an awe-inspiring figure until she straightened up and I saw her glare. 

Right, yes. We had our disagreeance. So, nope, I was not impressed by her impressive landing at all. I took a deep breath and pushed a sweaty hair out of my face. “Hi.”

She folded her arms. “Hi.”

All right, awkward conversation here we come! “Walk with me, so I can cool down?”

She didn’t follow my lead, so I stopped my walking and started stretching instead. This was not going anywhere fast.

Literally. We stood there in silence while I stretched and she alternated between looking at the sky and at me. There’s lots of wind out here on this country road. So, at least it wasn’t completely silent.

“Why are you asking about the School?” Max finally asked.

I stopped stretching to straighten up. Okay, she wants information, easy enough to rectify. “The California company reached out to the agency and asked for information. We told them no, but my boss and team wanted to know more about this group and who they are.”

“Huh.” Max started walking towards the house, so I followed. Just waiting.

Eventually, Max said, “That’s what the others said you were thinking.” She looked at me with narrowed eyes and then glanced back up the road. “The School always seems to ruin everything.”

I nodded, but Max was focusing on the space in front of her. So we just kept walking.

When we could see the roof I finally ventured to say something, “So you don’t want to talk about them?”

Max’s disgusted face definitely was an answer, “We’re going to stay away from them.”

“Okay.” I nodded. “Got it.” 

We walked a little bit closer. “Eventually, Max, we’re going to have to talk. The agency needs to know how to best handle this situation. We don’t even know what we’re saying no to. I’m sorry that this surprised you. It surprised all of us.”

Did I definitely look up how to resolve conflict with teenagers? You bet your ass I did.

Max looked over at me with an eyebrow raised. Yes, that probably sounded like something out a parenting book. But we’re all floundering here.

“You kids don’t have to say anything about this school if you don’t want to right now. But I can’t help you if I don’t know what I’m dealing with. Sometime in the next few weeks, when you are ready could you talk with me? The two of us can decide as much as we need to tell the agency.” I said, watching as Gazzy and Jeff flew around the yard. 

I saw Max nod out of the side of my eye. “Just try to talk to me. Okay? I’ll try my best to listen.”

There was a pause and then she nodded again and flew off to join Gazzy and Jeff in the air. So jealous. My poor, little legs were all I had to get me back to the house. 

But it does smell like Jeff baked brownies. I am such a sucker for brownies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so proud of myself. I managed to respond to comments and post before picking up a new book. My self-control is amazing today. (Though, I'm probably going to accidentally read through the night.)  
> Enjoy the chapter!


	14. When You Have to Find Feather Safe Dyes

Apparently, the world knew I needed some drama of the normal kind. 

“Hey, Anne?”

“Yes Nudge?”

“I want to dye my wings.”

Well, that certainly got my attention fast.

“Uh, any particular reason?”

“Because it would be super amazing. I mean I would totally dye my hair, but it’s way too dark. But Alyssa came to school and she had blue hair! And it looked so awesome. And that’s when I asked my friends how to do it and they said my hair was too dark and I’d have to bleach it. But then I was thinking about my wings. And like, yeah, my friends wouldn’t be able to see it, but it would be so awesome. I mean I wouldn’t have to bleach it cuz that kind of sounds painful for my wings and they aren’t white like An-Ariel’s, but they are still kinda light. What if I did like some red? Or blue? Or green? Or maybe all of them? Wouldn’t it be—”

Uh, what?

“Can you even dye feathers?” Jeff asked as he came in and grabbed an apple. He was out the door before I could even acknowledge how true that question was. Gazzy was cackling at something when Jeff entered, so I needed to wrap Nudge up fast and go and see what the two boys were doing.

“Nudge, I’ll have to check with the scientist if it’s safe for you to try. But if they can’t come up with a reason we could probably start with something not quite permanent for you to experiment with.”

I interrupted her cheering, “But, your friends at school cannot know about this. Okay?”

She nodded and gave me a hug, “Now I have to tell Max that you said it was okay, so now I have to do it! She can’t say no.”

I froze in the doorway. Shiiii—

The sound of glass breaking and Gazzy swearing to Jeff’s cackling became priority one right now. As I stepped over Total as we went opposite directions in the doorway, I called over my shoulder, “Nudge, we’re only talking about this if it's safe and not permanent!”


	15. When Your Child Blows Something Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We all know who this is about :)
> 
> Max = Max  
> Fang = Nick  
> Iggy = Jeff  
> Nudge = Krystal*   
> Gazzy = Zephyr*  
> Angel = Ariel  
> *Told Anne to call them by their real names

So, Jeff’s chemistry teacher called today. Apparently, he managed to cause a small explosion. 

And Jeff had to do it while I was out of town.

Agent Wilson, the winged-children project supervisor, had scheduled a meeting. Supposedly, I needed to defend the need for a newly made dye, anti-wolf devices, and etc in this project. And also does the food budget really need to be extended again Agent Walker?

So, not only was I was out of town, but I was in the meeting telling my supervisors that I got this. (Nudge loves her wings, I’m still waiting on the explanation for anti-wolf devices, and you try to keep six kids and a dog feed on the current budget.) But the children are doing good. We can’t push the children for information, yet. Any child in this situation would shut down or run. Please read the child development books I sent you. Yada, yada, I can do my job, etc. And then the phone call from the school.

I almost wanted to tell the school to just have Jeff walk home. I’d deal with him after this meeting. Luckily for Jeff, though, the school wouldn’t do that with a blind kid. (A blind kid who manages to make quiche and still somehow ruined my watch. Max took it after it started smoking and I haven’t seen it since.) So he sat in the school office shredding paper until I could get off work.

But right. Agent Wilson checking on my “parenting” skills. 

Luckily the meeting let out quickly. Somehow. Giving me just enough time to get home before school let out.

Max was already lecturing Jeff by the time I was able to hear them.

According to Jeff “It was just a small explosion.” 

Max’s response was rather angry, “A small explosion?” 

And I was slightly tempted to leave it at that, once the children settled down—get started on dinner and all that. I can make frozen pizza.

But once Max left the room after the scolding, Gazzy asked Jeff for a report. The amount of glee in Jeff’s voice made me realize an actual repercussion would be needed.

I’m pretty sure the children have extra sensitive hearing—remember to put that in my actual report—because the two of them quieted down the first time I called after Jeff.

I had Jeff watch the twenty year old safety videos for explosives that most FBI new recruits receive. It was painful enough just in my memories as a new agent, hopefully, it worked with a 14-year-old boy.

***

I forgot twenty years ago accessibility for the blind needed a lot of help. Heck, it still needs help sometimes. Jeff was definitely chuckling. And the grainy infographics they shared were completely useless. 

(Note to self: double-check to see if there is an updated version of this training...cuz it’s bad.) 

But it got a message across. Hopefully. 

“Kay Jeff,” I said, before spinning a chair around and sitting in it. “What brilliant insights can you give me?”

He leaned back and crossed his ankles. Man, this kid was a beanpole. Good thing he probably didn’t know just how much taller he was from the rest of the kids. “Can I honestly say that I checked out around the third minute?”

I hummed, “You can. But then we just have to talk more.”

Jeff sighed, “Fine. I won’t blow things up at school. Good?”

“Not really. I’d rather you didn’t blow up my house either.”

Jeff’s face was slightly miffed and teeny bit confused, “Duh. I like sleeping in your house. And you make sure we have good food.”

I smiled and made finer guns at him, before realizing I felt incredibly stupid and he couldn’t see me. “Great first goal. No blowing up things in Anne’s house, cuz we all like sleeping here. What’s something else we can learn from this?”

“The chemistry teacher doesn’t know what he’s talking about?” Jeff asked with a sigh after he thought for a moment.

“Completely possible. But teaching is hard. I hate doing trainings because I know exactly what I’m talking about, but how do I say it in such a way that others will get it too. I can’t even imagine trying to get high schoolers to understand.” I said, tucking my ankles around the chair legs. “But that’s not something you can work on. Help me out here.”

“Why?” Jeff asked, crossing his arms.

Teenage attitude, bringing up defensive walls faster than old Communist Germany. I held up my hand and raised a finger. “One, I’ll get out of your hair. You can go do whatever you want for the rest of the day as long as it’s not collaborating with Gazzy and explosives. Seriously, please not in my house. I’ll talk to a research team and see if there’s anything house worthy for you to experiment with.”

I raised my second finger, “Also Max seemed to imply that this is a rather regular experience with you and Gazzy. That might be fine when it was just the six of you. But I don’t have anything special about me. I can’t heal fast if I get hurt. And it’d probably be even worse with a student at your school was hurt. Can that be your second goal? Think about who you’re setting explosives off around?”

Jeff looked at me. Somehow his blue eyes managed to look straight at me--or at least it seemed that way. With a sigh, he broke the silence, “Fine. No blowing up anything while this is still fresh on your mind.”

He got and stretched, cracking his fingers. 

“No blowing anything up mister.”

“Yes ma’am.” He gave me a salute and started walking out of the room.

I also stood and tucked my chair away. “I started some frozen pizzas in the oven.”

“Yes, pizza!” Jeff fist-pumped. And I just smiled. I miss the days when pizza fixed my mood.


	16. When You...Board Games. Just Board Games. That’s all that need to be said.

I actually managed to make it into the office last week. And something one of my coworkers said stuck with me: family bonding. That always sounded important growing up. Do we do that?

I mean a nice walk, possibly. But have you seen the height and legs on some of those children? I would have to jog to keep up with them.

Camping...it’s too cold. Thanksgiving is coming up. Ooooh, but first I have to find a good neighborhood for them to trick or treat in! I bet you that Ariel would look adorable as an angel. And right family bonding right now. Kay.

Too cold for camping. I could probably do a horse ride. Some would love it, some would pretend to hate it.

I am very impressed with Jeff’s cooking skills. Family dinners have definitely become a thing.

But there needs to be something we all (cough, me) could do.

It took me a moment, and then board games came to mind. Backstabbing, hilarious, try not to flip the table, board games. Maybe even a few card games in there. It would be fun.

***

It took a little bit of planning, Max and Nick had quite a lot of plans after their school (no wonder I never see them around the house). And trying to work around Nudge’s friend schedule, I’m ready to hire her as my office assistant when she needs a job if she can always keep that straight.

But we all set aside a Saturday night, Jeff made brownies.

And the chaos that ensued was beautiful. (Can I say that as a child caregiver?) I set them up to play Aggravation (kinda like Trouble, but with marbles and more players). There was so much yelling. And then cackling! Yes. Just yes.

There’s so much I could go into here, but board games were a success. Between Nudge’s and Gazzy’s debate, extremely loud debates, Nick managed to sneak all his marbles into Home. But solid family bonding experience, complete with the backstabbing. And luckily no loss of furniture or other features of my home. I will definitely try this again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! Sorry, November was crazy. I started out NaNoWriMo until my daily life was completely derailed by a cold (yes 2020 still has those, stay healthy people), had a brief low moment until holiday plans kept me busy (happy late Thanksgiving American readers!), but we'll see what December brings.  
> Thanks for reading!


	17. When You Realize You Have a Personal Phone that People Actually Call

So voicemails. Really why were they invented? There are so many days I get off work and I just don’t want to. 

I totally might’ve ignored a few of them. My boss knows how to get ahold of me. I have messenger minions to run stuff to me if it’s super important.

Unfortunately, I have now realized I have a personal phone and voicemail. And holy flip, does that mean I might have a personal life now?

So, yup, I missed the first voicemail on the first day. But then a day or so later I got another one. And then I figured out that it was from one of the kid’s schools. 

Bad adult decision confession here. I ignored it. Our investigation into the New York mad scientist place we found is hitting a dead-end. So, yes, I ignored the second voicemail. 

But really, I just finished working with Jeff. I checked the news and office gossip--a few agents are posted around the kid’s schools as liaisons and bodyguards. Nothing has been blown up. The kids didn’t tell me anything of significance. (Unless we work with Nudge’s gossip that Oscar has totally been playing video games too much, but he got Mike into it. But more importantly, that means that Mike can’t hang out with Isabelle. And Isabelle likes Mike, but usually only at the beginning of the week. So if...sorry I stopped listening to her after that. Her level of gossip gathering is impressive.) So, it should all be good.

Okay, yes. Third voicemail at the beginning of a new week. I finally listened to it. Ariel’s teacher said that she has some concerns she wants to discuss with me.

I almost ignored this voicemail. I mean it’s Ariel, she’s six and adorable. But, I guess, it’s also the third voicemail. I set up an appointment with the teacher for tomorrow. We’ll see what happens.


	18. When Attending a Parent Teacher Conference

There are a few things I’ve picked up. 

One, these kids are extremely closed off, and eventually, with their trust, I hope they can get some professional help. Cuz my Psych 101 classes aren’t going to cut it.

Two, these kids are self-educated. Like in an amazing, but kinda horrible and wouldn’t get them into college bad way. Their attention is more spatial than sit down and study. Their “education” is definitely stacked toward advanced science and missing so many things in between that the schools were worried about their placements. 

But they are hard workers. Dedicated, amazing, and quick to pick things up. They’re smart and a few of them are definitely flourishing in a school.

I’m only one adult with a degree more focused on criminology and then my experience throughout my career. There were always going to be signs and education “holes” I was going to miss.

This one, though, I’m not quite sure how I missed it.

Ariel’s reading is all over the place. Like all over the place that sometimes it’s nonexistent. And the teacher would like more parent interaction. That’s now me. Kay. In one on one intervention with a teacher, Angel is amazing at reading. But as soon as Angel heads to work with a group of students or individually her reading level drops significantly. The teacher is perplexed. And the teacher looked to me for answers on this kid.

Ariel was sitting next to me and she had a frown on her face. 

But Max, on my otherside, had been quiet until a scowl formed on her face. (Hey! I needed some authority and history to present to the teacher and Max had the most experience with any of the kid’s education. So lucky her was forced to come along--after I turned down Jeff’s offer.) I almost expected Max to start an angry tirade at the poor, underpaid teacher. Instead, she glared at Angel, and then Max’s face was blank by the time she was facing the teacher again.

There is something here. And I can already feel the headache this mystery is going to cause.


	19. When Your Child Does Something That Blows Your Mind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These short little chapters have finally reached 10,000 words, so health break!  
> New readers, go stand up and walk around. Get a drink of water. Go to the bathroom. I'm horribly guilty of this but, honestly, head to bed whoever is reading this past midnight. (If you can, insomniacs, welcome.) Mental health break: you are awesome, just remember that.  
> I promise these chapters will be here when you get back.

I thanked the teacher and set up a follow-up appointment with her.

It was a quiet ride back to the house. Max stared out her window with a furrow between her eyebrows. Ariel also watched out her window. Her expression placid.

There was a moment of silence after I turned off the car, the porch lights casting a glow over us. There was an elephant in this car and I wasn’t sure how to approach it. "Ariel, honey, can you go see if Jeff needs anything for dinner?" 

I swear there was almost a glare from the six-year-old as she stared at me until Max cleared her throat. Ariel sighed and then left the car.

Max and I watched the front door close. "Why do I get the feeling that I'm missing something?" I asked, not looking away from the front door.

"You are," Max said and I turned to look at her. The porch light cast shadows on her face, but she didn't look at me. "I need to talk to An-Ariel first and then I'll talk to you."

"After dinner?" I suggested. Max turned to look at me, biting her lip. "Max, reading is an important skill. Ariel’s teacher has been working with kids from all different backgrounds for years and I’m grateful she’s picked something up. Because by next year Ariel will be expected to have mastered these basics. We need to work on this."

Max nodded and let herself out of the car.

I’m pretty sure I waited until the door was closed to groan and drop my head onto the steering wheel. I don’t know what I’m doing. But eventually, I pull myself together to be an adult and head inside.

Dinner is somewhat of a muted affair. The other kids know something is going on. Ariel is glaring at Max and sometimes at the other kids and whenever she turns her glare on me, one of the older kids will clear their throat and she’ll start the glare cycle all over again. She still manages to outeat me, though. I am picking at my food. 

If I didn’t know Nudge I would think her conversation was a complete airhead mood, but she’s struggling. And Jeff is the only one willing to converse with her. Gazzy is moodily staring at his plate. Nick needs to remind him to chew when he eats. 

I am extremely grateful when Max stands up announcing, “I’m done.” And heads into the kitchen.

I thank Jeff for dinner and follow her.

We quickly clean our dishes and as I open my mouth to suggest my study or the living room or something, Max interjects, “Let’s do this outside.”

I raise my eyebrow, but grab my jacket off the hanger and follow her out the door. 

She’s already pacing in the grass when I get outside. So I just sit on the porch stairs and wait. Her wings are out and they fluff up at random intervals as she’s pacing. And I wait until I realize she doesn’t know how to start, “Max, do I need to be worried about Ariel’s reading?”

Max stops suddenly with a short laugh and faces me. Her wings flare and her features are sharp. But I don’t say anything. After a moment, Max sighs. “So,” She starts and then takes a big breath, “I don’t know how to say this any other way, but An-Ariel can read minds.”

I’m pretty sure I spent the next few seconds reading Max’s body language before her words sunk into my mind. Her shoulders were tight and her fists deceptively loose as she watched me, I could feel my own tension rising until the statement finally made it into my brain.

“She—what?”

My first thought was, admittedly, of my work. The projects I had been assigned. Most weren't exactly top secret like the media liked to speculate the FBI worked on. But most I preferred not to advertise for many of the people involved. Like my current project of six children who have been experimented on without any regard to their well-being. And who apparently can read minds!

My second thought was of my associates. Oh boy, my boss and his boss are not going to like this breach of information. 

My third thought was of Ariel. That poor child. Cuz, honestly, minds can be terrifying things. But I can't panic here.

So my mouth moves on autopilot, "How does it work?"

Mmmmm, yes. That's actually a great question. Good job brain.

“What do you mean?” Max asked, her gaze hardening

“Like, is it conscious thought, unconscious thought? Whole memories?” I asked trying to pull up my ancient psych classes. I really should research that more. Yes, psych classes, not six-year-old mind readers.

Max’s head was cocked. “I dunno. Conscious thought I believe.” She looked back at the house. And then at me before quietly saying, “She can control people too. It’s something that’s just started, but I worry for her teacher. Her teacher had lots of notes on Ariel, but only now contacted you.”

That made me freeze. The implications of that. 

Ariel can what? How can she control others? Who has she controlled? How did they figure this out? Did people know she was controlling them? A six-year old controlling someone--that's kinda nightmare-inducing! Has Ariel controlled me?

But Max was watching me. So instead of profusely swearing, I let out a small chuckle. Take the attention off my freaking out. “Max, you and Nick must be amazing. I have no idea how you've managed to keep the kids straight. I'm struggling after a couple of months.”

She looked at me, her emotions easy to see for a moment before her wall went back up. "Well, the kids seem to like you.”

I allowed myself a smile at that.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” I said. And the quiet of the night came rushing back in. The slight chill of fall promising to become winter was already on the horizon. And I enjoyed that simple reminder for a moment. And then I came back to the present to see Max watching me. 

“Sit,” I said patting the stairs next to me. 

And then I realized and modified my statement, “Come sit, if you’d like.” 

Max stepped closer and leaned against the railing of the stairs, now pretending she wasn’t watching me. The trees along the driveway must be absolutely fascinating, but I came to my conclusion and said, “I think I’m going to have to talk with you and Ariel a little bit more about this mind-reading stuff. But let’s focus on the problem we came out here to talk about. Ariel’s teacher worries about her reading. How can we work with that?”

Max looked at me and then folded her arms on top of the railing. “Nick and I taught her to read a little while ago.”

“Okay,” I said, leaning back on my hands, “So what do we think the problem is? What is her teacher seeing? Why are you worried about her abilities?”

“I don’t know how reading is taught to students, but my first thought is that she’s reading minds instead of reading. Reading minds is always her answer.”

I pursed my lips and looked up at the dark sky. Well shit, if I could read minds I definitely would instead of trying to read words. And then my question, “So where is her reading level?”

“I thought it was good. But I don’t know.” Max said.

I could feel Max’s eyes on me, but I sat for a moment. I needed to sit for a moment. I have a mind-reading six-year old whose teacher doesn’t think she can read. Okay. Right. I’m an adult. What the hell am I suppose to do here?

I watched a few stars grow brighter.

And then I finally spoke, “I’ll talk with—no. Okay, I want to talk with my team and some researchers. But since you took a while to let me know, I’m guessing you’ll be hesitant about that?”

I looked over at Max for her to nod. 

“Alright, then. I’ll try to do some research on child education. I can’t promise anything. I’m by no means I’m an expert. Until then,” I blew out a breath, “We’ll buy beginner level reading books and Ariel can read out loud to us? Simple stuff that should show us her reading skills, but we don’t actively have to read with her?”

Max was thinking, looked at the house, and then nodded at me. “We can try that.”

There was a worried crease on her forehead when she looked back at the house.

I stood and stretched. And then smiled when Max looked over at me, “Hey. We’ll figure this out.”

Max’s face cleared and she jumped and pulled herself onto the porch.

Right. Maybe, I could try one last question before she headed in. “Are there any other abilities I should know about in you kids?”

“Nope.” Max disappeared into the front door.

Right, very good talk. Wonderful talk. I need some coffee. Or Mountain Dew. Okay, honestly, some alcohol, but I’m currently trying to avoid that. Right, coffee and research. Time to become an expert (pfffftttt) on child education. Child education with the supernatural.  
Instead, I started walking inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alrighty, technology is working for me again!  
> Sorry for the long delay in these last few chapters. I got way too caught up in how to actually work with a child who probably doesn't know how to read, but has mind-reading abilities. Eventually, after talking with my sounding boards I realized that most readers aren't going to care about IEPs, 504s, etc. (Seriously, where would Angel classify? I find it absolutely fascinating and challenging.)  
> Well, enjoy!


End file.
